


Operation: Spill the Tea

by aac7



Series: Hilda & the Fawn [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, F/M, Post-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24618745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aac7/pseuds/aac7
Summary: Having already averted one potential tragedy, this time Hilda and the Deer put their sleuthing skills to the test as they try to uncover the truth behind the relationship between two of the biggest question marks in Garreg Mach. No stone is left unturned, no secret is left hidden, and (hopefully) no gardens will be blown up in their quest for the truth.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Series: Hilda & the Fawn [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777594
Comments: 31
Kudos: 116





	1. A Plan

**Author's Note:**

> I recommend you read the first part of this series, "Operation Deerly Beloved" for some context. It'll make things easier to understand!

Hilda notices it after they take Fort Merceus, which was immediately destroyed upon their victory, by the way. What was up with that? Talk about rude. 

Claude and Byleth say they’ll collect more information on the attack and reconvene with them next week, dismissing them for the night after praising them for a well-fought battle, even though it bore fruitless in the end. Claude calls it bittersweet. Everyone is tired, immediately retiring to their rooms for the night after a quiet dinner service, their victory severely dampened after those javelins of light destroyed one of the greatest footholds gained towards defeating the Empire.

 _That’s a problem for tomorrow_ , Hilda thinks, immediately flopping into bed after changing out of her sticky clothing. She’s tossing and turning to try and get comfortable, but for some reason she can’t, even though she’s absolutely exhausted. She settles on staring up at the ceiling instead, her mind replaying the events of the past month, landing on one event in particular.

Operation Deerly Beloved. Well, particularly the part where Claude yelled at them. Ever since, she’d just felt like she’d been…missing something from that whole interaction. Sure, her plan could have used a little teeny bit of fine tuning, but otherwise they did everything they planned. What was she forgetting? She squeezes her eyes shut and accesses the set of mental notes she had filed away during their operation. A few words stick out in her brain.

“ _By told me…”_

“ _…ruined By’s meeting_ …”

Hilda sits up, now wide awake.

She scrambles out of bed and out of her room, banging on a certain door until it opens, revealing a sleepy Marianne who must have just rolled out of bed. “Hilda? What are you doing? Are you hurt?” She whispers, but gently pulls her into the room, closing the door softly behind her. Hilda immediately starts pacing as Marianne lights a nearby candle, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she sits on the edge of her bed, patiently waiting for an explanation.

When Hilda stops pacing, she rests her hands on her hips, and turns to her friend. “When did ‘Teach’ become ‘By?’ she questions, and Marianne frowns, not following her train of thought.

“I don’t believe I follow,” Marianne trails off, her eyes fluttering as she blinks herself awake. “Explain?”

“Remember when Claude yelled at us for destroying the garden and ruining the Professor’s teatime with Holst?” Marianne winces at the memory, but nods. “He kept calling her ‘By,’ since when has he given her a new nickname?”

Marianne’s brows furrow as she thinks. “I think I heard him call her that once a while ago, sometime after Ailell,” she says, and Hilda’s eyes widen. “I don’t believe I’ve heard him say it since,” she shrugs, staring longingly at her bed. “Why?”

“Why?” Hilda whispers loudly, bending forward so her face is an inch from Marianne’s. “A nickname, Marianne! She was always ‘Teach’ to him. Something in their relationship must have changed. The only person I have ever heard call her By is –”

“Captain Jeralt,” Marianne realizes, the pieces finally fitting together for her. “Do you… think they’re actually something more than friends?”

Hilda is gestures wildly. “Obviously! The question is, why aren’t they telling us?” Hilda goes over her mental file of notes again. “Why do they feel the need to hide their relationship?” She’s pacing again, only stopping when Marianne clears her throat.

“Hilda? Perhaps we could talk about this in the morning?” Marianne suggests with a yawn, and Hilda stops and looks at her as if seeing her for the first time that night. Marianne is wearing a sleeveless pale blue nightgown that falls just above her knees. Her skin is porcelain perfect, save a few scars, but they add character. In the moonlight shining through her window, she looks like she glowing, her exposed skin looking ethereal. Now that some of her leg is actually exposed, Hilda can see the friendship bracelet twined around her ankle, a gift from Hilda herself about five years ago. She kept it.

Hilda’s mouth is suddenly so dry that all she can do is nod and rush back to her room, where she’s now kept awake for other reasons.

_____________________

**-The Briefing-**

“We have a mystery on our hands, people,” Hilda starts, levelling a careful look at each person seated in the Cardinal’s Room with her. She opens her folder and pulls out her first piece of evidence. It’s a crudely drawn stick figure of Claude, recognizable only by the messy mop of brown hair holding a noodle-like version of Failnaught. “This man,” she announces, slapping the drawing onto the table, “is keeping a secret from us.” Eyes widen at such an accusation, and Hilda rolls her eyes. “Nothing like that. I think he’s dating the Professor and not telling any of us.” Scandalized gasps fill the room. If Hilda rolls her eyes again, they may fall out of her skull.

Lorenz cuts in before she can even start to explain. “While Claude is consistently proving to be a decent leader, I still harbour some doubt that someone as refined as the Professor could fall for his wily charms. Everything he does is with ulterior motive. She knows that better than any of us.” Hilda’s hand twitches for something to throw at him, but the paperweights have been moved out of her reach. Shame.

“If it was purely for his personal gain, don’t you think he would be making their relationship public?” Dorothea points out, and Hilda gestures to her appreciatively. “If they are dating and are keeping it a secret, I think it’s more genuine, something just for them.”

“Or they’re just friends with benefits and they don’t want anyone to know,” Sylvain pipes up, and Hilda suddenly doesn’t want to throw anything at Lorenz anymore. Luckily, Ingrid is there to stomp on his foot and punch him in the arm. “What?” He whines, rubbing his arm and scooting away from Ingrid. “I had lunch with them the other day, and you could actually cut the sexual tension between them with a knife.”

Hilda quickly realizes the Cardinal’s Room is divided into two arguments. Herself, Ignatz, Raphael, Leonie, Dorothea, Marianne, Lysithea, Ingrid, Petra, Caspar, and surprisingly Felix all believe that the relationship is real. In her mind, they form the right side.

On the wrong side of the argument, Lorenz and Sylvain are harbouring their doubts. Saying they’re either just sleeping together or not together at all. They’re a little outnumbered, but are both stubborn as a hungry wyvern.

"How are we ever going to settle this?" Lysithea groans, dropping her head onto the table. 

Hilda begins pacing back and forth again, thinking, thinking, thinking. She suddenly stops in her tracks, and spins on her heel to face everyone again. "We force it out of them." 

Lorenz does not look impressed with the idea. "The Professor is a woman of very few words, and Claude can spin half-truths much too well. How might we go about forcing _anything_ out of them?" 

The room is silent, even Hilda does not know. 

"Claude has kept his Almyran heritage a secret from us for a very long time," Ingrid speaks up. "If he can keep a secret that huge from us for as long as he did without any of us having a clue, who knows how well-guarded a secret relationship with the Professor might be." 

Hilda drops herself into the Professor's usual chair, resting her elbows on the table and rubbing her temples. She already knows that Claude will be a tough nut to crack. The question is, how will they crack it? 

Dorothea suddenly slaps the table, rising out of her seat. "Jealousy," she says, snapping her fingers. The group shoots her questioning glances. "A jealous man is reckless. A jealous man will slip up and make mistakes. Claude may a good secret keeper and a good liar, but at the end of the day, he's still a man," she explains, lowering herself back down into her seat. "He isn't immune to a little jealousy, if he's jealous, it'll show." 

Leaning back in her chair, Hilda contemplates this, once again accessing her mental notes. She goes back a few weeks to the dinner with Holst and Claude. While Holst dropped compliment after compliment about Byleth, she caught Claude not so secretly glaring at him. The whole purpose of their last operation was giving Claude a reason _not_ to be jealous. Once, Felix held a brawling seminar, (Hilda wasn't really there to participate, she just wanted to see and appreciate some shirtless men, sue her), and when he placed his hands on Byleth's hips to adjust her stance, the tips of Claude's ears were red. 

Oh, this was going to work. 

"We make Claude jealous," she decides, rising from her seat. She strides over to the chalkboard, grabbing a piece of chalk. "I've been watching Leader Man for years, I know how he ticks," she tells them. "I hope you all have something to write on, because I'm about to teach you how to make the sovereign duke jealous."


	2. Green-Eyed Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hilda puts her plan into action. Will Claude take the bait?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought of a song that accurately represents this fic: Jealous by Nick Jonas. We love Claude our big jealous idiot.

**-Phase 1: The Set Up-**

They catch Claude during lunch later that day. 

“Marianne, are you okay? You look kind of tired,” Claude comments as he sits across from them at the table. The first step of their plan is in motion, and Claude has walked right into their trap.

“O-Oh,” Marianne stutters, smoothing her dress a little self-consciously at Claude’s observation. Hilda silently wills her to get it together. “I didn’t sleep much last night,” she admits, and Claude sends her a sneaky grin as he shovels some stew into his mouth.

“You know,” he says when he swallows, pointing at Marianne with his spoon. “They say when you can’t sleep at night, it’s because somebody is staying up thinking about you.” Marianne wonders aloud who could possibly be thinking of her at such ungodly hours, and Hilda laughs a little too loudly, hoping her makeup covers the bags under her eyes.

“Anyways,” Hilda starts, dumping the remainder of her stew into Claude's bowl. “Claude, how close are you to the Professor?” She questions, jumping right into it but carefully gauging his reaction, hoping something in his mask with crack.

Nothing does though, his face set with his easy-striking grin. “I’d say we’re _pretty_ close, why?” She doesn’t miss the very subtle teasing lilt in his voice. _Smug bastard._

Hilda leans forward, lowering her voice a little. "Is she seeing anyone?" 

She catches Claude frown for a fraction of a second, then it's gone, but she sees him stiffen a little. "Like...romantically?" 

Hilda resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Obviously." 

Claude stares at her as he takes another spoonful of stew. "Not that I know of." There's a beat of silence as they size one another up, trying to discern the other's intentions. Beside them, Marianne looks like she's already ready to retreat, but Hilda digs her heels in. Claude breaks the silence first, grabbing his glass of water. "Why do you ask?" 

As much as this next part pains her, she has to get it out. “Oh, because I wanted to know if you think she’d want to be set up with Holst. He sure likes her a lot,” she smiles sweetly. Claude von Riegan actually chokes on his sip of water, coughing until his face is tinted red. Marianne immediately moves to his side to pat his back. Barely able to hold back her mirth, Hilda just watches him, her chest swelling in pride at her success in making her best friend choke-

Alright, it wasn’t part of the plan, but it was fun to watch.

“What?” He sputters when he catches his breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “By– uh, Teach with Holst?”

Hilda tilts her head and smiles innocently at the little slip. "Yeah, they really hit it off during his visit. He even offered her a spot at the Locket once the war is over. He doesn't just offer anyone that.” Claude is silent, so for good measure she adds, “I have to say, it'd be pretty cool to have her as a sister-in-law." She sees Claude's knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip on his spoon, and Hilda can't help but be surprised.

It cannot be this easy. 

"What makes you think she'd be interested in...Holst in the first place?" He questions, and although his face is passive, she hears the way he stumbles over her brothers name.

Hilda swipes the sweet bun off of Claude’s tray. “I asked her about him, and I think she really likes him too. She was very impressed with his axe skills, and get this, she even called him handsome.” This time, Claude definitely tenses, and Hilda kicks Marianne under the table, causing her to jump.

"Oh! Uh, Lord Holst is um-he's very-uh... good with close range weaponry, and...he’s totally hot," Marianne fumbles, her face bright red. "I would climb him-" she pauses and looks down at her hand, "like a...tree?" Claude raises a brow, green eyes flicking between the two women before finally resting on, and narrowing, at Hilda. He opens his mouth and looks like he's going to say something witty, but ultimately decides against it, shutting his mouth. Wordlessly, he collects his half-finished bowl of stew and stands up.

_Shit._

"I have some work to do, so I'm going to finish this in my room." The easygoing smile is plastered on his face again as he walks away. When he's halfway to the door, he turns and calls to them over his shoulder. "Don't you two have some hedges to tend to?" 

Hilda scowls as soon as he's out of sight and Marianne releases a sigh. "I'm sorry, Hilda," she apologizes, but Hilda shakes her head. 

"It's fine, Marianne. You saw how he reacted, right?” She chuckles, finishing off the rest of her stolen sweet bun. The tightening grip on his spoon, the visible stiffness in his posture, and the fact that Claude _never_ stutters are all indicators that she actually got to him. She pats Marianne's hand. “This was just the set up, sweetie. The real show is going to start in about an hour.” Unfortunately, her and Marianne are scheduled to trim the newly planted hedges first. 

__________________

**-Phase 2: Getting Physical-**

As predicted, Claude enters the training grounds just in time for Hilda's advanced axe seminar to start. She watches as he picks up a training axe and scans the room, his eyes fixing on a certain mint-haired woman in the corner. "Claude," she hears Byleth greet when he chooses a spot near her. "What are you doing here? I don't imagine you need further training with this particular weapon," she observes as he swings a training axe. 

"Never too late to learn something new, _Teach_. Just wanted to brush up on my axe skills a little, that's all.” Hilda leads everyone through a quick warmup, and after a few expertly swung maneuvers with his training axe, Claude suddenly stops and starts to fan himself with his hand. "Phew, is it just me or is it hot out today?" He asks no one in particular, and proceeds to peel his gloves and that stupidly puffy coat off, leaving him in a clean white undershirt. An undershirt that hugs his broad shoulders and sculpted torso a little _too_ well. All the while, his eyes never leave Byleth once, and Hilda can _hear_ that sly smirk on his face. “See something you like, Teach?” 

Hilda is positive she isn't imagining the blush creeping up Byleth's neck as she turns away. 

She interrupts the sickeningly cheesy moment to start the lesson, breezing through information on stances, maneuvers, timing, parrying, mounted use, everything. Of course, Claude performs them with ease, even volunteering to “show her how it’s done” every once in a while. Dorothea was right, when it comes to weaponry, men assert their dominance by showing off.

With twenty minutes left in the hour, they finally enter the main event. "I'm going to pair you all up," she announces, and begins pairing up the attendees. "Petra and Leonie, Raphael and Sylvain, and...” Hilda pretends to think as she stares at the unpaired four people. “Claude, you're with Caspar," she says, and Claude blinks at her, silently asking _why_. Hilda just winks. "Professor, that leaves you with Felix." This was probably the only part of the plan Felix was on board with (or listening to), and he has a shit-eating grin on his face as he squares up across from Byleth, training axe raised. 

It is as sure as the sky is blue to know Felix Hugo Fraldarius goes all out in a spar, especially against the Professor. 

Compared to Claude and Caspar, Byleth and Felix are a little under skilled in this particular weapon. Sure, Hilda wouldn’t dream of being on the receiving end of their swords or gauntlets, but give them an axe and they’re completely out of their depth. Byleth had questioned why Hilda encouraged her to come when the axe was never her weapon of choice, but Hilda could be pretty convincing if she wanted to.

Well, now she has to attend Byleth’s next advanced swordsmanship (exhaustion with a pointy stick) seminar, but Hilda can make sacrifices in the name of revealing true love.

So she mostly watches the two amateurs, commenting on their form and such as they spar. Unsurprisingly, they’re picking up on the weapon quite easily. It’s annoying how good they are. “Felix,” Hilda interrupts, and they both stop mid swing. “Could you fix the Professor’s stance? Her angling is a few inches off.” Felix complies, albeit begrudgingly, and drops his weapon, approaching the Professor. Byleth silently lets him square her shoulders, take her wrist to position her arm, and finally lets Felix place his hands on her hips to turn them to the right angle. 

The training grounds are dead silent when they hear the sound of splintering wood. 

Hilda cranes her head to see Claude holding only the handle of his training axe, the other half laying on the ground at the feet of a stunned Caspar. She can’t help but be mildly impressed. When did Claude get so strong?

Then she sees how red his face is, sees his other hand balled into a fist, eyes narrowed dangerously at Felix. An unbothered Felix, who is continuing on through the plan and is now pressing his front to Byleth’s back, one hand on her hip and the other gripping her hand to show her how to swing the axe properly across the air in front of them. 

Oh. 

“Don’t I get help with my stance, Fraldarius?” Claude asks with just a hint of venom when he finds his voice.

Felix just snickers, not moving from his spot nestled against Byleth. “Only beautiful women get my help, von Riegan,” he retorts. Byleth raises a brow at the comment, but doesn’t say anything. 

“Ohhhhh,” Sylvain gasps, grinning so widely she fears his face may split in half. Sylvain must have told him to say that, because Hilda definitely did not expect Felix to say _that._

Everyone turns back to their partners, but Hilda knows they’re all watching Claude out of the corner of their eye. “I’ll send him back to Faerghus,” she hears Claude mutter when he thinks her back is turned. 

Seems like wyverns won’t be the ones wrestling in this plan. 

“That’s all for today,” Hilda cuts in before Claude’s eyes can burn two holes into Felix’s back. “Good job everyone. Felix, you looked good out there. Claude, your swing could use a bit more control, so keep working on that.” Leader Man huffs in annoyance, and Hilda wonders if she has a death wish. 

Claude immediately moves towards Byleth as their friends file out, and Hilda pretends to busy herself with rearranging the weapons rack. 

“Can I talk to you?” She hears him request to Byleth in a low, urgent voice, taking a hold of her upper arm as she turns to leave. 

She looks down at her arm before shooting him a warning look, and he reluctantly releases her. “Claude,” she says, and Hilda recognizes her warning voice. It gives them a chance to fix their behaviour before sending them to detention. 

She half expects him to insist, but he sighs and nods his head, sauntering out of the hall. Byleth, who clearly didn’t buy that Hilda would rearrange the weapons rack on her own accord, approaches her with a steady tread.

Every muscle in her body is screaming at her to retreat, but she stands her ground and forces herself to look her Professor in the eye. _Light and breezy, light and breezy,_ she reminds herself. “Hey, Professor! Good job today. You did so well.” Her voice is far too shaky to pass as light and breezy. 

Immune to the praise, Byleth blinks at her, and Hilda shifts her weight from one foot to another, barely managing not to flinch when she finally speaks. “Since you’re suddenly so keen on holding axe seminars, I suggest you make them a weekly dedication,” she tells her in a voice that makes it clear that it is not a suggestion. Before she can protest, Byleth actually smiles at her. It’s not the sweet kind she saves for Claude, but the one she gave the Death Knight before she ran him through with her sword. Hilda feels a shiver run down her spine. “I’ll be sure to save you a block for Saturday mornings. Bright and early so everyone can attend.” 

Hilda’s eye twitches. _Absolutely not._ She can’t say that though. “Of course, Professor,” she agrees half-heartedly, forcing the corners of her lips upwards. Byleth seems satisfied with her response, so she turns on her heel and casually walks out of the training grounds, hands clasped behind her back as she hums a tune Hilda doesn’t recognize. 

Now alone, Hilda lets herself slump over, hands resting on her knees. _That was so scary._

She needs to call an emergency meeting, because the Professor is on to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT CHAPTER PREVIEW: 
> 
> After awkwardly stuffing herself through Claude’s bedroom window, Hilda comes to the conclusion that she is stuck.


	3. It’s Only Illegal if You Get Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little breaking and entering never hurt anyone. 
> 
> Right?

**-Emergency Strategy Meeting-**

Hilda slams her hands on the table, but instead of eyeing her friends, her head hangs low, and she has no evidence to present. “The Professor is on to us,” she informs them solemnly. "To make matters worse, now I have to wake up early on Saturdays," she adds with a groan, slumping into a nearby chair and dropping her head onto the table. She hears a few snickers, knowing that her so-called friends are amused with her suffering. 

"How do you know?" Dorothea asks, sitting up straighter. "We were very careful, I don't think she noticed we were following her all day," she says, gesturing between her and Ingrid. 

"She noticed because Claude actually loses brain cells when he's jealous," Hilda deadpans, forcing herself upright. "I think we made him too jealous, so she caught on pretty easily. He was so pissed at Felix for even touching her." 

"So we've established that they _are_ together in some capacity, right?" Ignatz asks as Hilda once again starts her slow circle around the Cardinal's Room. "Claude wouldn't be jealous if there was nothing there, right?" 

"Mmhm," Hilda hums, deep in thought. "Yes, that much is true, but for some reason he doesn't want anyone knowing. When Marianne and I asked him if the Professor was seeing anyone, he said no, but he also didn't seem to want her to get with Holst." 

"So...now what?" Lysithea questions. "If he won't admit it, maybe we can try the Professor." 

Hilda grimaces at the thought of even _trying_ to get anything out of Byleth. She might end up having to hold seminars on Friday nights too. "No," she says, shaking her head. "We won't get anything out of her, but we can keep her occupied while we shake Claude down." 

"If they don't want us knowing...maybe we shouldn't keep prying," Ingrid suggests, and Hilda looks at her like she's insane, and has to sit down to keep from pacing any further. She’s still tired from the seminar, ugh. “I can’t help but think we may be crossing a few boundaries...”

"Ingrid, honey, you haven't been here long enough," Hilda sighs, technically speaking the truth. She was the last transfer student, switching classes a month before Edelgard decided to cancel graduation. While Hilda is all for having a voice of reason, now isn't the time. "You don't get it, Claude knows _all_ of our secrets," she explains, gesturing around the room. "If we don't tell him, he snoops, he asks around, he pries. In the Golden Deer, there's no such thing as boundaries." Her classmates all murmur in agreement, because they all know it's true.

"If we can't get anything out of them directly, maybe we take a page out of Claude's book then," Leonie suggests, and Hilda waits for her to continue. "According to Claude, when it comes to secrets, there's no such thing as boundaries in the Golden Deer House, right?"

"What are you suggesting?" Hilda asks, suddenly very intrigued. At this point, any idea -except giving up- is a good idea. Pulling off any logical idea without the Professor noticing makes nearly every idea seem impossible anyways. 

Leonie looks around and hesitates. "You may not find it ideal-" 

Hilda kicks her feet up on the table, throwing her hands behind her head. "Try me." 

__________________

**-Phase 3: Distraction in the Gardens-**

From the safety of the freshly trimmed hedges, Lysithea watches as Sylvain waves to Byleth from his spot at the tea table he occupies with Felix. In Hilda's absence, she's been tasked with making sure phase three of the plan runs smoothly. "Professor!" he greets with a bright smile, waving enthusiastically at a passing Byleth. She nods in acknowledgement, and continues on her way, but Sylvain jogs over to her. "You have to have tea with me, Felix here is so uncooperative." 

Byleth just squints up at Sylvain, who's smile never falters once, which is weird. Lysithea holds her breath. Will she say yes? "Sure, I have a few minutes before my next meeting," she eventually agrees and Sylvain's smile turns so bright that Lysithea thinks she may be blind now. He throws an arm around their Professor as he guides her back to the table, Felix already pouring her a cup of tea. 

"So, Professor," Sylvain starts, elbows resting on the table. "There are a few things I've been wanting to talk to you about-" 

"Girl problems?" Byleth sighs immediately, and Sylvain has the guts to look stunned, his cheeks turning pink. "You cannot ask girls out simply to spite Lorenz, I've already told you they don't like that," she says flatly, taking a sip of her tea. Lysithea hears Felix's smug laughter, and holds back her own. 

"No! Uh, that's not what I meant, Professor," he groans, letting his head hang for a moment. "We already know about my problems. Girls only want me for my crest and to have my crest babies-You know what?" He cuts himself off, sitting up straighter and clearing his throat. "This isn't about me. This is about you. Tell me, Professor, do you have a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Any crushes? Oh, I know! Any dirty thoughts?"

Byleth stares at him with those wide eyes of hers, and Sylvain shifts in his seat under her unsettling gaze. "Why?" 

Sylvain places a hand over his heart. "Can't I participate in some healthy gossip with my beautiful Professor?" 

"No," she replies sternly, sending him a sharp stare over the rim of her teacup. She narrows her eyes at Felix. "That's the second time I've been called beautiful today. What did you two break this time? Does Ingrid know?" 

Felix chokes on his tea, and Sylvain's eyes widen. "We didn't do anything!" They exclaim at the same time, and Lysithea makes a mental not to check for broken objects around the monastery.

Scared into silence, they sip their tea before Sylvain tries again. "I have to know, Professor, it's killing me. Any previous boyfriends or girlfriends? I don't judge."

Byleth stays silent, sipping her tea quietly. Once she's drained her cup, she pushes up out of her chair. "I have to go to my meeting. Claude and I are meeting with Seteth to discuss the movements of the Knights of Seiros for when we march on Enbarr, so I can't be late." She looks around, her eyes landing on Lysithea, who freezes in place, wondering if she's been seen. _Curse this white hair._ "I don't know what you're all planning, but please refrain from any...magic related incidents." 

Lysithea doesn't move until she's out of sight, and when she steps out the hedges, Sylvain and Felix sigh deeply. "Has she always been that unnerving?" Sylvain shudders, taking another sip of tea. "I swear I've never met a woman so immune to my charms." 

"Maybe you're just not that charming," Felix scoffs. Lysithea rolls her eyes. Why did she have to get stuck with the children?

She pours her own cup of tea and adds a spoonful of sugar, sighing as she stirs. "We didn't get anything out of her, but hopefully it bought Hilda enough time." 

___________________

**-Phase 3.5: Snooping-**

After awkwardly stuffing herself through Claude's bedroom window, Hilda comes to the conclusion that she is stuck.

Literally. She's actually stuck in his window. 

She wriggles forward. Nothing. Tries scooting back. Nothing.

_Shit, shit, shit._

In hindsight, this was a good idea. She used to sneak out her window all the time as a student, easily able to slip in and out without being caught. It should have been easy. 

It should have.

What she didn't account for was the five years it's been since she snuck out these windows. She didn't account for five years of sweet buns without depending on the Professor's training to burn them off. Oops. She also didn't account for the growth of her...assets that came with the joys of womanhood. 

"Leonie!" She hisses as she squirms. "Give me a push," she instructs, and feels Leonie grab the back of her thighs, giving her a shove. She still doesn't move.

Claude's bedroom is on the second floor, and since they don't have a blanket rope to climb, they had to compromise. Below her, Leonie is standing on Raphael's shoulders, and is trying to shove Hilda through the window. 

So this is what 23 years of wisdom looks like. Dangling from a window as you break into your friend's room. If anyone told Hilda she'd be putting this much effort into something, she would have simply laughed in their face and gone to take a nap. 

_Concentrate,_ she thinks, reminding herself that she's working on a clock. Her top half is wedged into Claude's room, so she pats the area around the window, looking for something to grab onto. Her hands find a smooth stone edge, grasping it with both hands, and with all her might, she pulls her self forward. She practically flips herself into the room, landing awkwardly on a pile of books, groaning and rubbing her neck.

That is going to hurt tomorrow. 

Hilda looks around. Claude’s room is full of books. Some look old, some look new, all of them look uninteresting and boring. Now that she’s actually standing in his room, she has no idea what she’s supposed to be looking for. What would even qualify as proof that he is dating Byleth? She picks around, steering clear of anything that looks like it could be used to fashion a poison. 

Getting down on her hands and knees, Hilda peeks underneath Claude’s bed. Nothing under his bed but some dust. She a surprised there aren’t more books shoved under there. 

_There must be something in his desk,_ she guesses as she opens his desk drawer. Hilda rifles through stacks of reports, when something at the bottom of the drawer catches her eye. 

It’s a brown, leather bound journal that looks like it’s seen better days. Hilda chuckles to herself. Claude keeps a journal? She would have honestly never guessed. When she moves to grab it, she finds herself stopping. Should she? Her instincts tell her it’s wrong. This is too personal. With a sigh, she rearranges the papers over it and shuts the drawer.

Giving up, she steps onto the ledge to climb out the window, but freezes when she hears familiar laughter in the hall, accompanied by the click of boots she knows all too well. 

Hilda inhales sharply, looking between the window and the door. “Oh Goddess,” she grimaces. The voices are much too close, she won’t have time to shimmy out the window and out of sight. A key jangles in the door, and Hilda scrambles onto the floor, squishing her entire body under the bed just as the door creaks open. It’s a tight squeeze, and she can hardly move, but it’s better than getting caught. She clamps her hand over her mouth, almost too afraid to breathe. 

_Shit, shit, shit._

“I can’t believe Seteth cancelled on us,” Claude groans, and she hears him drop himself into his desk chair. 

“Flayn was sick, did you really think he wouldn’t?” Byleth’s voice comes next, laced with a hint of amusement as she leans on the desk next to him. 

“You know what that means?” Claude’s voice has slowed to a low drawl, Hilda hears shuffling and soon Byleth’s white Enlightened One cloak is on the ground a few inches away from her. “It means we _both_ have an hour to do as we please,” he growls. Hilda’s eyes widen. 

No. 

But yes, she hears them kissing, and for a split second, Hilda’s heart is soaring. _I’m right,_ she thinks proudly. _They are together. They’re a couple. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Suck on that Lorenz. They’re-_

Doing it. With her in the room. 

No. Please, Goddess, no. 

Claude makes a confused noise, and Hilda hears Byleth tutting. “Oh, I don’t think so,” she scolds lightly and Hilda can imagine the shocked look on Claude’s face. 

“We need to talk about today first.” Hilda feels the bed dip above her and winces. 

There’s a pause as neither of them speak. 

“What about it?” He asks slowly. 

“I think Hilda knows,” she sighs. Hilda’s heart skips a beat at the mention of her name. 

”Hilda knows about us?” Claude repeats, still sounding confused. “But...we’re so careful. I hope she didn’t tell the others.”

Byleth sighs, the sound frustrated and tense. ”Why can’t we just tell them? They have our trust.” She inhales deeply before speaking again. “I want to hold your hand and stroll through town. I want to lay my head in your lap and read together outside in the gardens. I want to love you outside of these four walls and not have to hide, Claude.” Hilda is wholly caught off guard by how _desperate_ her voice sounds, and it breaks her heart. She’s never known Byleth’s voice could hold so much raw emotion.

“By, we can’t...” Claude replies softly, and she hears Byleth sniffle. “I told you why, remember? Us being together in public is dangerous. We depend on each other, that much is clear. If Edelgard and Hubert were in our position, and us as their enemies knew that one would fall without the other, who would you immediately point your sword at on the field?” 

“One of them,” Byleth answers without hesitation. 

“It makes the targets on our backs larger than they already are. If I lost you, we would lose this war. If I had an army two times larger than the Empire’s, but I lost you, we would lose. Five years, By, five years I kept the Alliance out of the war, but in reality, I was stuck. It wasn’t until you came back that I started moving forward. I’m nothing without you.” 

“Claude, that’s not true-“

”It is. You’re the key to my victory. You’re my sun,” a kiss, “and my stars. I’m sorry we have to hide. Just until the war is over, okay?” 

There’s a long silence. Hilda’s mind is racing with a million of questions for the couple. _How, when, where?_ However, her heart is mostly aching for them. 

“Okay,” Byleth replies quietly. “When the war is over.”

She hears Claude hum a gentle tune until Byleth’s sniffling subsides, and Claude suddenly chuckles. “So, Hilda knows, huh? Believe me, not being able to tell Hilda kills me. She’s...my best friend. It’s hard to not share your happiness with someone you’re close with.”

”So what do you want to do?” Hilda stiffens a little. What will they do?

”We just have to be more careful, that’s all.” She’s a little disappointed, but now she understands. They’re scared. War is scary, Hilda knows this, but she’s just Hilda. She isn’t the sovereign duke or the acting Archbishop. She isn’t the one leading thousands of soldiers into battle against the Empire. As leaders, it’s they’re responsibility to put the lives of their soldiers first. 

“Come on, let’s get some dinner,” Claude suggests, and she watches as Byleth’s cloak is picked up off the floor, and sees their feet disappear into the hall as the door clicks shut. She doesn’t move for five minutes to be sure they’re gone, before finally pulling herself out from under the bed. She stretches a little before clambering back out the window, where Leonie and Raphael are waiting for her. 

“Jump! I’ll catch you.” Raphael urges her, and Hilda once again begins her shimmy and shake until she falls through the window. Luckily, Raphael makes good on his promise, easily catching her in his arms and setting her on the ground. 

“Well? You were in there for a while,” Leonie says, looking at her expectantly. “Did you find anything?” 

Hilda dusts herself off, looking Leonie in the eye. “No,” she shrugs, but can’t help the small smile tugging on her lips, “I didn’t find anything at all.” 

______________

Byleth kicks the door closed with her foot as Claude drags her into his room. “What are you doing?” She laughs as he peppers her face with kisses. 

“What? I can’t show you how much I love you? I thought that was what you wanted?” He asks gruffly, but gently pushing her down onto the bed. 

“It’s not because Sylvain was flirting with me at dinner, is it?” She asks, but he only huffs in response, moving his assault down her neck. “Or was it when Felix put his hands on me during Hilda’s seminar?” 

“Not at all,” Claude denies, but Byleth knows better as she feels his own grip tighten on her hips.

“Claude, for all that intelligence you have, you are a stupid, stupid man sometimes,” she says, and he suddenly bites the exposed skin on her collarbone, eliciting a quiet moan from her.

“My star, if this is your idea of dirty talk...” he murmurs against her skin, lapping at the area he had just bitten. 

“Claude, they were purposefully trying to make you jealous,” she deadpans, and much to her dismay, Claude stops his licking and biting, sitting straight up. 

“What?” 

“It was part of Hilda’s scheme to get you to slip up and confess that we’re a couple,” she explains, and she can hear the gears turning in his head, his eyes widening with realization. 

“She played me,” he mutters. “I knew something was up when Marianne said she wanted to climb Holst like a tree.” 

Byleth sits up, leaning into Claude’s chest. “Marianne said...what?” 

Claude shakes his head. “Never mind,” he waves off, the familiar glint appearing in his eye as he grins. “You wanna get them back?” 

Byleth cocks her head and smiles, liking this idea very much. “How?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *mic drop* didn’t see that coming, did ya? 
> 
> I thought it would be useful to give insight on why Claude & Byleth are hiding their relationship in the first place. It turned out a lot sadder than I intended but I think it makes sense for them. 
> 
> Don’t worry! Back to regularly scheduled deer antics in the next instalment, which I’m planning on having up by Friday. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and all your kind words!


End file.
